My name is Jasmine, I am a 21 year old woman from Minnesota, USA, and this is the lamentation of my first birth.
I will start this story with the last prenatal visit to our Obstetrician, Tuesday, December 6. The check up goes well as it usually does, the doctor said that I was dilated to 2cm and 50% effaced and he also said that if I make it to 3cm by the next prenatal visit he wants us to talk about a labor induction, because he was going to Russia for some medical mission thing on my estimated due date, which was three weeks from then. I can not believe this today, but, my husband and I agreed that this would be in our best interest (“We really love this doc and want Him to deliver our baby…”– A direct quote from my journal). Ok, we'll see you next Tuesday.
Tuesday December 13, 1am, I am HUNGRY, I get up, make chips with cheese, eat them, drink a few glasses of water and go back to sleep… an hour later I wake to a small pop sound (mostly in my head?) and a feeling like maybe I am peeing myself, was it the 60 ounces of water I just drank?? I am 2 weeks from my est. due date, no way that is my “water”, oh my, it IS MY WATER! “Babe, I think my water just broke.” I say, after slapping my husband’s shoulder, he responds with a “Mmurffel”, “Honey, my water just BROKE!” I say louder, with more shaking this time. What I said finally registered in his head, and he said, “What?! Oh. OK, do I call the hospital now?”“I guess so, yeah, that is your job right?” The hospital says to “…take some time to get ready, and then come in as soon as you can.” After laying down some towels, I get out of bed with a LOT of fluid gushing out; I sit on the toilet to let it run out while my husband goes to start the car, because it is very cold outside. The “water” just keeps on coming. I get up and try to put on a pad and some panties, but I soak through both in an instant, so, I roll up a bath towel and throw on makeup and make sure my husband has all the bags for the hospital that I had packed a month ago. I try the pad thing again, and it works better this time. I note to myself that I am not having any contractions yet, but we head out the door anyway ( I am really kicking myself for that, why couldn't we have stayed at home and watched the winter sun rise through our open living room window, or just stayed in bed cuddling/sleeping and watching cartoons?). I am having no pain at all at this time, just exhilaration. We stop at the gas station on the way to the hospital to get a sandwich and some yogurt, because I know that they won’t let me eat at the hospital, and my mom did this same thing when she had me. The sandwich makes me kind of sick so I only eat half of it, I eat the entire yogurt. I am so nervous, but mostly, extremely thrilled we are finally going to have our dream baby, our dream birth! Or, so I thought…
By the time we get to the hospital at 3am, I have soaked my pants through; I am tremendously embarrassed about this and I walk behind my husband all the way up to the “Birth Place” at the hospital. We check in and they have me change into a “gown” (is that a joke?), put in an I.V. hook up “just in case”, put me in bed in the “Birthing Suite”, strap on an external monitor and “check” me, I was “only 3cm”, they are so good at making you feel like a failure. They tell me to rest now, but, I can’t, so I just sit/lay there, watching the monitor and hearing the incessant beeping as my husband sleeps in the “great leather lounge chair” provided for the partner’s comfort. I try to watch TV, but it doesn't work. They didn't tell me not to move, but they did not say that I could. I didn't ask. Every time I even shifted in the bed, the monitor would get messed up and it was really loud, so I was afraid to move. I know I am not supposed to eat, but I sneak a yummy granola bar, I even hide this from my husband.
At about 7:30am they call the Doctor, start me on Pitocin since my labor can not be longer than 24 hours, and put in an internal monitor (because my “Doctor prefers them”), but not before a few more “checks”. I am now basically immobile; I got up to go to the bathroom two times, it hurt a lot with all that crap stuck in me and afterwards, I felt like it was all falling out, and the nurse assures me that it is really stuck in there while she has her hand stuck so far inside me that I am sure she is trying to steal my gold tooth, as she reached in she said, “I know this is uncomfortable sweetie…” Soon after this the contractions are getting very strong; the monitor shows different (this really ticks me off and I swear a lot).
About four hours, eight rises in the dosage of “Pit” and twice that many cervical checks later, I am in some real and true “discomfort” (read: PAIN!). My dad is on his way to visit and bring my husband some “provisions” (yummy McDonald’s cheeseburgers that I am not allowed to eat). I then remember our “Childbirth Preparation Class”, the instructor said not to bring food in to labor and delivery because it is really distressing to all the hungry mothers in labor to have to smell said food that they can’t have… My dad hid the burgers in the pockets of his big "Predator" coat. A few minutes later, I remember another gem of knowledge we received at the class, the doctor who gave a speech told us that, as first time mothers, our bodies don’t know how to birth, and we really don’t know how it will react to childbirth, so why not get the pain medication the first time and then see how we feel about pain medication for next time. Right then, I gave in to the nurse’s second offer for “a little something” to make me “more comfortable” (why not, I can’t eat). I feel high, really drugged up, and I worry how my baby feels, they told me that in early labor like this, it is really quite safe to have this; the baby won’t come out drugged or anything. (I still wonder what this “quite safe” drug may have done to my baby.) This dazed state lasts for a few hours; I joke with my husband and my dad about how I look like a robot with all the wires and tubes coming out of me, something right out of the sci-fi books my husband and I read, I don’t laugh about this anymore now. Soon, I start to really feel the pain of these contractions artificially amplified by the “Pit” that is raised every half hour, right along with the pleasure of yet another stranger's hand shoved violently and painfully in to my vagina to “just check” how I am doing; and with the anxiety that goes along with those horrors, I am now officially petrified of this thing they call childbirth. “When you are dilated a little more you may have an epidural…” I make it to 6cm dilation before I break down and say “okay” to the epidural, which was at about 2pm. It takes over an hour for them to get started with it, a lot of tests and paper signing, by that time, I had a change of heart, but it was too late, I was hunched over and they were putting what I now consider the last nail in the coffin. It takes what seems like forever to start working, it finally does and I have a catheter inserted and I resent the fact that someone has to pee for me.
The epidural works for about 45 minutes, and then the “bolster” runs out, here comes the pain, roaring through me with every contraction, cervical check (it feels like one every 5 minutes), and the catheter that some nurse (I am not sure who, she never looked at my face) stuck in and then had to do it 2 more times in a row. My husband told me that she grimaced the first time and he thinks that she did it wrong and tried again after asking someone for help, I don’t know for sure, all I know is, it hurt so bad I screamed (at least I think I did) and arched my back, I felt like I was going to throw up and pass out from the pain; the contractions, I could handle, it was all the other stuff that got me. The pain pulses through every cell in my body, it is horrifying, and the most awful physical pain I have ever had in my whole life. I tell the nurse anesthetist, and he asks me to rate my pain level from 1 to 10, when I say “10”, he says, actually says, “You don’t look like you are at a 10.” I start to cry at this point, I don’t even know what to say. The crying makes my pain worse, and on top of that, I am violently and uncontrollably shaking, needless to say, I feel like I would rather die then be here like this. He says, “Okay, if you say so, I’ll give you another bolster…” It doesn't do a thing for the pain, but it makes me shake more.
At this point I decide that this is pretty much all I can take, I say that if one more person comes in the room and sticks their hand in me I will shoot them. This is about the time when the Doctor comes in to check on me, and despite my dad telling him that he may be shot, he checks me, says that I am at 8cm, 95% effaced, and the baby is at a -2 station, the same place I was told he was for almost the whole labor (my medical records state that he never went below a 0 station though, weird). The baby’s heart rate is about 180, and it would drop with the contractions and pop right back up to 180. The Doctor says something about non-reassuring heart tones, and tells me that an emergency cesarean is necessary to have a healthy baby. All I can think about is my pain and my little baby boy who is in distress, I want it to be over. I’m relieved that they are going to end it. I am so terrified, it hurts so badly. I thought it was the best for the baby, and I was willing to go through anything for my baby to be safe and healthy.
Everything moved so fast, all the “prep” was done at one time. They put an oxygen mask on me and then I was poked and prodded by at least 3 people from all directions at once, while being told to lie on my side as this position is better for the baby’s flow of oxygen. (I recently obtained the medical records and it says in there that when they turned me on my side and put on the oxygen mask, the decelerations in my baby’s heart rate stopped, and he was ok, but they did the cesarean because of non-reassuring heart tones anyway. This makes me very angry.) I scream with the excruciating pain of the catheter, blood draw and contraction all at once. They make me get up on to a rolling table, saying, “I know this is uncomfortable…” and I think to myself, "When am I allowed to be in pain, not just uncomfortable, in their minds??" They said that they were not sure if my husband could come in with me; was that ever an awful thing to hear. I am rolled out into the hallway not sure if I will see him again, inside, I was screaming, I think on the outside I was trying to smile, for my husband to know that I was not afraid and that everything would be okay. What a liar I am. When I get to the OR it is very cold and piercingly bright, but what I remember the most is gray, when I think back to this moment now, all I see and feel is gray. To the credit of the student doctor, she said one thing that I remember fondly today, and that was that I looked “hot” in my ponytail, I know this was a lie, but, it was a good lie.
I had to sit up on the table to get my spinal, which was excruciating "...I know this is not pleasant, honey...” Then, I was laid back down, my legs were strapped down, and then my arms were. I felt like I was being crucified, I asked why they had to strap my arms down, and they said it was for my own good, I did not understand this at the time, nor do I today. They next put up this immense blue paper sheet, I remember reading about this thing in the very brief description of a cesarean in “What to Expect…”, but I thought that they were supposed to lower it for the actual birth so I could see my baby… As they get done erecting the great blue wall, I feel panic set in. I can’t feel myself breathing. Apparently, the spinal went too high, up to my diaphragm and lungs. I say that I can’t breathe, the nurse anesthetist tells me that I am fine (But I am NOT fine), that my oxygen levels are just great. All I could feel was the air going in to my mouth and stopping there like there was a trailer park on my chest. I just knew for a fact that I was going to suffocate to death right there in a hospital, full of staff people who will do nothing to help. My husband and newborn will have to be all alone and then who will nurse the baby? He can’t have formula! I tell myself that reasonably speaking it has been a long enough time that if I were really not breathing, I would be dead. So, I chant to myself, in--out--in--out, this is the only way I can be sure that I am really breathing, because I just don’t trust that jerk nurse anesthetist guy.
At last, they let my husband in. I can tell he is petrified; he looked like a kicked puppy. I tell him that I can't feel myself breathing, and I ask him to help me by saying in--out--in--out, and he does this too slow for my liking, I feel a rage at this and ignore him for the rest of the "birth" and I go it alone, so to speak. Even though I know it is unreasonable, I am still mad at him for this, how dare he not be there for me as I am being crucified?
I remember thinking during the operation, I am not sure what about to this day, and I wish I had written it down while I was at the hospital. I know that I was completely turned inward though. I also distinctly remember being able to see the whole thing happening in the reflection of their face shields, I stopped looking after the first layer was cut. I wish I had watched the whole thing.
Soon, I notice that I feel hollowed out, and when I look to my left, I see these tiny little feet sticking out from inside one of those massive blue sheets, and this huge crowd of medical people surrounding them, and I remember thinking, he's born, they got him out... I then feel this great sadness, and at the time I think I am sad about my pregnancy being over, but that wasn't it, I was sad that they stole my baby from me. They stole him out of me, and did not even say that he was here. I felt so incredibly empty, and that feeling has not gone away yet, I am unsure that it ever will... I realize suddenly that the baby hasn't cried this entire time, and I haven't "breathed" either. They must have finally said that he is out, because, my husband is excitedly telling me that he has hair, which is something we had wondered about throughout the pregnancy, I tell him I don't care, I want to hear him cry out to me...Then I hear it, this great big cry, and it is the single most beautiful thing I have ever heard, I take that sound in and then I can suddenly I can feel my lungs again. I take a breath for real at last.
I start to feel nauseous and they give my husband a tiny liver shaped dish to catch the sick in, while injecting something into my I.V. I no longer feel sick. They give the baby to my husband to show him to me, he is so little, pink and beautiful. All of the sudden I feel so tired that I can not even think straight and for some reason, I did not want to see this baby who I could not touch. They ask if they can bring the baby out to see my mom, dad, sister and best friend who are all in the waiting room, and I think this is a good idea, because my husband wants to stay with me while they put me back together, and the baby needs loving arms that are not otherwise occupied, plus, I am now so tired I feel like I will pass out at any moment. So, he goes.
About a half an hour passes and I am wheeled into the "birth suite" for recovery. I see everyone all around the baby and we wave at each other. My husband is moving back and forth from me to baby, who is across the room. After they check my vitals they tell me that my boy weighs 6lbs 11oz, and they finally give him to me. I get him to latch on to my breast easily, and it feels great, not the agony that I was told it would be. Everyone says goodbye and goes home, so that we can rest. My baby stares at me with his swollen, shiny pink face, he is truly beautiful. I feel so tired and so awake at the same time. I feel all my adoration for him come at once right there as we stare at each other. How could I've been so disinterested in him in the OR? He is astonishing.
We are all moved to postpartum room after a while; we will be there for the duration of our stay at our hospital. A few months prior to this, I had read a pregnancy book called "The Girlfriends Guide to Pregnancy" and that book said that you should take advantage of the nursery at the hospital while you can, so that you can rest, and I thought that was a really good point, so, off went my baby to the nursery. I really missed him but I felt like a total idiot for not resting while I could, so I avoided asking for him. So when the nurse brought him to breastfeed and bond, I was so happy to see him, and from then on he was with me the entire night.
The morning after the operation, I was supposed to take a shower, this was a daunting task for someone who has been in bed and not eaten for over 30 hours, in labor for 17 of those hours and was literally cut in half. So, the first step was sitting up, which was easy enough with the hospital bed, push of a button and I was slowly sat up. Then, I had to scoot to the edge of the bed, and this is really painful even though the nurse helps me. Next, it is time to stand up, I tried to, and it was exceptionally painful and in fact, impossible, so I just kind of hunched over and shuffled, clinging to the nurse’s arm and the counter top for support, I could not even lift my own feet.
As we come to the bathroom, I realize that I have to step over the edge of the bath tub and this makes me extremely nervous. I did eventually make it in to the shower, but not without severe pain and a lot of effort because my muscles did not work well. The nurse showed me where the shampoo/soap dispenser and towels are, turned on the water for me, and she left me all alone. I was so scared to be alone. I was thinking, "What if I fall??, What if I can't get out??” My husband was off somewhere, getting something to eat, I don't remember for sure. I turn the water on full blast, all the way hot, it feels so good as it hits my sore back, I just stood there for what seemed like an hour, then I turned around and washed the rest of me. I try to sit down because I feel queasy, but it hurts so much I can not make it to the seat, and then I am angry because I'm in extra pain for nothing, and I swear a lot. My husband got back just in time to help me get out and get dressed, and I needed that help, and that bothered me.
The next day, I finally got to eat. It was meatloaf, in fact it was the best nasty hospital meatloaf that I have ever had, but, eating "real food" came with a price, I was told that I had to have a "movement". I finally figured out what they were talking about as they were leading me to the bathroom. I still feel bad for whoever had to clean that.
On the third day, we got to go home. The ride home was surreal, nothing really felt different, but there was this great change looming over us, I could feel something coming; I just did not know what. The weather was beautiful, the snow that had fallen throughout the stay at the hospital, which was the first real snow we'd gotten all year, was shiny and gleaming and it was warm and sunny, a great day to be out driving. I felt so great on that ride home, a new mother. The sun and fresh clean winter air felt great on my face in comparison with the stale, sterile, sickly air in the hospital, and those pasty florescent lights. There was real electricity on that ride home. I was happy to finally get to be a family without any outside interference.
My husband had taken a week off of work to be home with me and the baby, so by the time we got home, he had three days left to be off, plus the weekend, and those five days went pretty good for having a newborn as first time parents goes, but once he left to go back to work, in came the "baby blues". It started on December 21, which was coincidently the day I wrote about my birth experience in my journal. I had such trouble breastfeeding that I had to give the baby pumped breast milk so that he would eat, then my pump was not getting any milk out, and I felt frustrated and like such a failure. All I did all day long was cry with my baby on the other side of the room either sleeping or crying. I couldn't eat and I was not allowed to walk down stairs, so I could not even leave my 3rd floor apartment. I wanted to run away and hide forever in Duluth and become a folk singer. Even today as I type this, I am shaking and typing so fast, just to get through writing this part is almost too much.
Every time I moved I was painfully reminded of how much you use your abdominal muscles in your everyday life. My back pain from the epidural and the spinal was nearly unbearable, and I also had an extremely sore, swollen and bruised vagina from all of the forceful cervical checks that I was forced to endure; I remember thinking that is was so weird that even though I did not deliver vaginally I had such pain there, I only recently realized that it must have been the hundreds of cervical checks done by what seemed like a dozen different people. I thought, "How could anyone ever do this?" I knew that I would never do it again, I wrote that in my journal. I also warned myself to remember the inconsolable crying, by both my baby and I, the "no baths" rule (my body was in so much pain, I was dying for a long hot relaxing bath, they told me "no" because the risk of infection), the pain and exhaustion, and foremost, the all encompassing fear that came with the "baby blues". It was the most miserable time in my life; I had this great, super love for my son, but I just could not be the happy, hot mama I knew I could be.
On December 23, my mother in law came to help out and she, the baby, and I went to the emergency room to talk to a doctor about my feelings, and also to see my lactation consultant, who I still consider a lifesaver. When I got there I had to talk with a nurse out front before I could go in to see a doctor, boy was this guy an ass. He asked me a few questions about how I was feeling, and asked how nursing was going, I told him that the baby absolutely would not eat, and so I pumped milk and my husband gave it to him, and he actually said, "Well, that is why he won't nurse, you know." I was crushed; it IS my fault after all! How could I have done this to him, my precious little son! Later, the doc listened while I cried to him and told him about everything that has happened, and he asked if I wanted to try some anti-depressants. I thought we should try milder treatments before messing with those, so we decided that I would feel a lot better if I could get some sleep, as I was not sleeping very much, he prescribed a "baby safe" (I made sure to ask) antihistamine which had drowsiness as a side affect, then we decided that I should have help and company at home for awhile, and my twelve year old sister was off school for Christmas vacation, so I would have her come and stay for the rest of the month, then I was to call and we would see how I felt after a week. I talked to the lactation consultant after this, and she gave me my very first nipple shield and showed me how to use it, and the baby got right on and nursed like a champ once again, I felt so good about that.
I took half a pill every night before bed and I could sleep, and wake to feed the baby when he got up, and then fall right back to sleep, something that was impossible before, the pills lasted for about a month, and I never got a refill on them, as I had trained my body to sleep like a mom by then. My sister came and was actually a godsend, it was great to have someone to talk to that can talk back, and just knowing that she was there if I needed help was a great thing. We were able to go out to the mall and things like that, but I would have to sit down every hour or so to rest or else I would get faint and nauseous. I used the nipple shield for the next three or four months without difficulty, and once and a while I would try nursing without the shield, after a lot of tries and determination to get him to nurse naturally, he finally would go though an entire feeding without the help of the shield, and it was exhilarating.
It has been about 9 months now, and, I have only just begun to learn how this birth has affected my life. I just recently got all my medical records from the hospital and I have learned a lot that I never knew. One thing that I learned was that I was labeled "High Risk" by my OB, because I have strong religious beliefs about blood's sacredness to God, and will not accept blood transfusions or other blood products. I really resent that label of "High Risk" and am especially perturbed that I was never aware of this "High Risk" stamp on my records.
These days, I am learning more and more about what birth really should be like, I love being a mother, but I increasingly resent the way I became a mother. There was no love, there was only gray; and so, I am ready to try again, but this time as an educated, willful woman, not the birth fearing and doctor revering girl that I was. I will not let fear dictate my decisions any longer. I learned to trust in birth, and trust in my body's ability to not only carry and grow my children, but to also birth them. I just know that I will have a better birth.
As for my future, I want to help other women in any way I can so that they can have the informed birth that they deserve. I am determined to teach other women to not doubt in their ability and strength, and to at least point them in the direction of the information they need, rather than the biology of birth and instructions on how to be a good compliant patent that I was fed during my pregnancy. I want to continue writing and I also want to become a doula or perhaps a midwife someday so that I can help in a more active way.
I am thankful to my "belly birth" in a way, because without that experience I may have never learned all I have learned, nor would I have had this passion to help other women. I used to have such hateful feelings towards most other women, now I have feelings of compassion and loving-kindness, and I am truly grateful for that. My hope is that someday soon all women learn to trust in their bodies, in birth, and in each other. We need to help and trust in each other as women, because, if we don't, who will??
Thank you so much for reading my story, I would love for you to contact me.shegothipslikecinderella@gmail.com

YOU ARE NOT A FAILURE! The medical system failed to protect you and treat you with the respect every mother deserves. You were forced to be on their schedule, with their rules, which have no regard for the natural process of birth. Please be gentle to yourself. You have been hurt enough, right? Now that you know what you don't want in a birth, make sure you find out what you DO want for the next one. Read everything you can get your hands on and anything that interests you here at MDC. Being armed with facts will help you clearly define what you want for next time. Then you will be able to stand firm in your decisions. Hopefully you can find a nice midwife in your area. I think you will be pleasantly suprised at the difference between CNM/DEM's vs. OB/hospital. Enjoy your Baby:

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Being able to scribe with such honesty. how gifted you are. Hope all is well, life always has ups and downs, working through them is the key to happiness. Just curious, how did your feelings towards women manifest? PEACE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Being able to scribe with such honesty. how gifted you are. Hope all is well, life always has ups and downs, working through them is the key to happiness. Just curious, how did your feelings towards women manifest? PEACE!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am not fully positive, but I think it came from a combination of me being sexually abused a lot as a child, and my mother never being around. It usually was manifested as jealousy.

YOU ARE NOT A FAILURE! The medical system failed to protect you and treat you with the respect every mother deserves. You were forced to be on their schedule, with their rules, which have no regard for the natural process of birth. Please be gentle to yourself. You have been hurt enough, right? Now that you know what you don't want in a birth, make sure you find out what you DO want for the next one. Read everything you can get your hands on and anything that interests you here at MDC. Being armed with facts will help you clearly define what you want for next time. Then you will be able to stand firm in your decisions. Hopefully you can find a nice midwife in your area. I think you will be pleasantly suprised at the difference between CNM/DEM's vs. OB/hospital. Enjoy your Baby:

You know, the most sick thing about all this was that, my good friend's mother is a midwife, and I wanted her to care for me, and give birth in her beautiful bed and breakfast, BUT, my husband was nervous about it, so I agreed to do the hospital/doctor thing the first time around and then, when he knows more what to expect we'd see how he felt about homebirth.... Isn't that tragic for us!
He's agreed and is VERY supportive now of the homebirth thing, and he is even trying to convince me to do our next birth unassisted.

I am so sorry. Your story is typical though- it was not your failure.
I applaud your desire to help inform other women.

For your anger and grief, I suggest EFT. (Emotional Freedom Technique.) It is acupressure technique that can really help move some of the building anger/ sorrow. You can learn to do it to yourself for free here:

Also, there is an amazing EFT practitioner I have used , Rick Wilkes, he works with pregnancy issues ( reframing your horrible birth experiences..c/sections/ post partum depression.) as well as physical and emotional pain. He also works with women who are preparing for birth and have fears or previous sexual abuse which might hold them back from birthing freely.

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Thank you so much for sharing that story. It's amazing some of the things that can happen to us when we blindly trust the medical establishment to protect us. The more amazing thing, however, is how many of us use those horrifying experiences to educate ourselves and become amazing birth advocates! You are a strong mama!

I am so sorry that you had to have that horrible experience. No one should have to go through something like that. Thank you so much for sharing your story. I have an acquaintance who thinks that "bad things don't happen during birth in hospitals anymore." Boy! Would some of the stories on here be eye opening for her. You have a gift for writing. I am glad that you are starting to feel healed, and that you want to help women. Wishing you the best with your next pg.

During my first pg journey, I had heard a little about how hospitals view birth: as something to keep pushing along (after all, time is money), rather than something sacred to behold each step of the way. Armed with that knowledge, my dp and I put together the birth/post partum plans that mirrored our values. I went to the hospital fully expecting a fight, but instead had all of my wishes respected and followed. That said, it was very painful for me to read your story. I kept expecting someone to jump out and scream, "what the hell is going on here???" at any moment. I thought that surely there was someone there who knew you were not having the birth experience that you should have been having. I also read some of the comments that you made to responses to your story. You have a lot of healing to accomplish, i.e. child abuse and now birth trauma, but you sound so ahead of the game at your young age. The fact that you can express yourself w/ such flow is a wonderful gift; it will help you immensely on your journey towards abundant emotional and physical health. Please use your openness to expressing your grief to help others, as you said you want to do. Women everywhere need that powerful boost to help them realize that they too have convictions about what happens w/ their bodies and hearts when it comes to their birth experience. Praise you for your openness to share yourself and bless you on your continued path towards total health.
Your Sister in Motherhood

Wow mama I'm so sorry this journey has been so painful for you. As other mamas said, unfortunately, what happened to you is what happens to many women all the time. My sister had med-wives in the hospital and I tried to get her to fire them when she was 5 mos pregnant and find others because I knew she was going to end up with a c-section. She didn't want to switch providers and did end up with a c-section and was not happy about it. Her incision was twice infected and breastfeeding was so hard for her. Two months went by before she started feeling little pain and breastfeeding was firmly established. A friend of mine just had a horrible c-section (I mean more awful than usual) and, like you, the doc gave her antidepressants and she is just so lost. I've been so hurt by their experiences that you would think they happened to me: .

I'm happy that it has made you want to be an adcocate for women. We need more people to protect women and babies. I, too, am an advocate for childbearing women. I remember giving a speech about typical labor and birth when I was 20 years old. I didn't say what I was talking about in the beginning, I just described this story, of a woman being taken to a cold and dirty place, needles shoved into her, strapped down, hands and objects being shoved into her, etc. Everyone in the audience thought I was describing a rape scene and were shocked to discover that I was describing the modern American birth.

You have begun to heal, even if it doesn't quite feel that way. Expressing yourself the way that you have is a sign of that (and I agree that your writing was very moving). Do you realize that many women have similar experiences and they think this is just the way women have babies so they don't question it? As one mama said, you are way ahead of most women, especially at your age.

Please don't be so hard on yourself. Childbirth is so extraordinary but few people today see it that way. You see that and the work you plan to do now will empower you. One day at a time, always moving forward...

I am thankful to my "belly birth" in a way, because without that experience I may have never learned all I have learned, nor would I have had this passion to help other women. I used to have such hateful feelings towards most other women, now I have feelings of compassion and loving-kindness, and I am truly grateful for that. My hope is that someday soon all women learn to trust in their bodies, in birth, and in each other. We need to help and trust in each other as women, because, if we don't, who will??

I loved how you ended you story. You sound so strong. I am sorry you had to go through such a fire to get to this place. Thank you for sharing. I think you are going to be (and are!) just fine.

[quote=ebony;6718891]I'm happy that it has made you want to be an advocate for women. We need more people to protect women and babies. I, too, am an advocate for childbearing women. I remember giving a speech about typical labor and birth when I was 20 years old. I didn't say what I was talking about in the beginning, I just described this story, of a woman being taken to a cold and dirty place, needles shoved into her, strapped down, hands and objects being shoved into her, etc. Everyone in the audience thought I was describing a rape scene and were shocked to discover that I was describing the modern American birth. [quote=ebony;6718891]

That speech sounds like it was great! I could not agree with you more about needing more people to protect the childbearing women and their babies!!

Thank you so much!! I was shocked to see this up on the front page again, I read it again myself, wow, what a journey I've been on... And to think, it all started with such abuse, and has turned in to a beautiful thing...

I wrote a very similar story of my first birth in 1993, except for the surgery part! I also went on to become a doula and childbirth educator because of my experience. And now, many births and a few of my own UC's later, I think I have finally forgiven myself and have healed from the pain of my first birth.

I wrote a very similar story of my first birth in 1993, except for the surgery part! I also went on to become a doula and childbirth educator because of my experience. And now, many births and a few of my own UC's later, I think I have finally forgiven myself and have healed from the pain of my first birth.

At the risk of sounding totally dumb... I hear ya sister. :
My UBAC was so healing and I am glad that I did it exactly the way I wanted, not how I 'should' have done things.
I have not quite forgiven myself yet, simply for the reason that I feel I should have given my ds a better birth. BUT, it has not been even 2 years, so perhaps forgivness will come. I have a feeling that I will need my ds to forgive me before I can forgive myself.

Dear Jasmine,
I read the two stories, one after the other. It is terrific how you have been able to endure so much pain and transform it into wisdom, into something you can truly give out to other women in need. Thank you so much for sharing. I was very touched by how humbly you conclude Violet's birth story, that you understand that this may not be the ideal birth for each and everyone, in the moment and in the state of mind we are at when giving birth. I was touched because I had both my girls in the hospital, I may choose otherwise if I ever birth again, but then at the time, I loved their births.
I really wondered at the scar from your c-section. : How could anyone have so little respect for a woman's body as to do that. I cannot understand. It must have been so, so hard to take.

Dear Jasmine,
I read the two stories, one after the other. It is terrific how you have been able to endure so much pain and transform it into wisdom, into something you can truly give out to other women in need. Thank you so much for sharing. I was very touched by how humbly you conclude Violet's birth story, that you understand that this may not be the ideal birth for each and everyone, in the moment and in the state of mind we are at when giving birth. I was touched because I had both my girls in the hospital, I may choose otherwise if I ever birth again, but then at the time, I loved their births.
I really wondered at the scar from your c-section. : How could anyone have so little respect for a woman's body as to do that. I cannot understand. It must have been so, so hard to take.

Thank you so much! :
The scar is very hard to take:, as many cesarean mama's will attest to. I personally sleep either curled up tight with my arm covering the scar or on my belly- to protect my self from the 'monsters'.

Hi hon, while my story differs slightly from yours, it is in many respects the same, and I found comfort reading your words, knowing that someone else had felt the same with the awful monitors, pit drip, catheter, and eventual C-section. Thank you so much for sharing. I am sure that you have given much comfort and support to others through sharing your story and your pain.